


Can't Lose

by PariPassu



Series: Birdland [2]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Chess Joke, Complete, F/M, Fast Food, Force-Feeding, Handcuffs, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Spanking, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 17:13:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6865627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PariPassu/pseuds/PariPassu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jake gets some unexpected help with his investigation and learns the downside of dumpster diving in heels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Birdland

Elena's happy new life fell apart rather quickly. 

About a week after their lunch, Jake happened to drive by as she was struggling up a hill in a not-so-great neighborhood wearing high heels and carrying about 27 Smith's grocery bags, mostly stuffed with books. He pulled over and walked back to where she had stopped, panting.

"Moving?" he said.

She nodded. The cat had died, so the friend from the library didn't need her to catsit anymore and she needed a place to live. She wasn't a slave, so SlaveCare wouldn't let her live in their subsidized apartments. She had to find a place and the paper said there were some cheap apartments in Birdland, which was about the sketchiest neighborhood in their town. 

He wanted to say "just come live with me" – it was on the tip of his tongue – but he couldn't. She would get mad and walk away and would never talk to him again. He needed to be her helpful friend and not take over her life. Again.

She did agree she needed a ride, though, so her million little bags, her uncomfortable shoes, and her tired body settled into his car. They cruised through Birdland, looking for "For Rent" signs in the windows of some of the nastiest crack houses Jake had seen. He'd seen condemned buildings in better shape. 

"Seriously?" he said.

"What?" she said without opening her eyes.

"You don't want to live here. It's dangerous," he said.

She cracked an eye open and look at him without lifting her head from the back of the seat. "You'll think I won't be safe? I'll have my possessions taken away? I might be physically assaulted?" 

"Yes!" he said.

"And that would be different from the rest of my life . . . how?" she said while continuing to look at him.

Because you're supposed to want more than that, he thought to himself. You're free and you should want to preserve your freedom. But he didn't say anything because he'd been one of the people who took her choices away.

"Here's good," she said. They were stopped at a red light in a broken down neighborhood with unemployed people looking at her like a meal. 

"Seriously?" he said, again.

"Yeah," she said. She gathered up her bags and started walking toward a building that said "appt avail."

He left her there but was furious at himself the whole way home. He could not protect her if she didn't want him to. Her independence was very new and important to her and she needed to make her own choices.

 

He knocked on her door, and then knelt down to wait for her. Kneeling was a bitch. He was only 37 but had an injury that made bending his knee exciting. He had no idea if he could get up if he ever got down, but he needed to do this right so she would say yes.

He had tried to keep his distance but two days after he dropped her off, he got a voicemail from his mom.

"Jakey?" she said. "Vic and I are going to be in town for Easter and we want to see you and your sister. We're staying at Diane's so you don't have to panic, but we want to come and see the house and look for that tea set of Grandma's that I think is still in the attic. Call me, ok?"

By watching Elena phone on his little tracking app, he knew she was home and he had watched her go into a truly crappy first floor apartment off an alley. She had no curtains. What was she thinking? 

Probably, he thought, that she still had no right to privacy. Also, it occurred to him while he was kneeling there, she had no money. Neither the Smith's job or the part time job at the library would pay very well, especially now that she had to supply un-subsidized rent.

He hoped she would answer the door soon.

"Elena?" he called.

She looked at him through the window and started to laugh.

"What the heck?" she said as she opened the door. "You ok down there?"

"I need your help," he said as his lower legs went numb. "My mom and her husband are coming for Easter and I need to make them dinner or they'll think I'm a total loser who can't cook."

"When we know . . . " she said with a smile.

"That I *am* a total loser who can't cook," he agreed. "Also, Mom worries about me."

She nodded. "So I'm not catering your Easter dinner, I'm cooking and pretending to be your girlfriend?" 

"Right," he said. 

"In exchange for what?" she said. 

He shrugged. "Money?" he suggested.

She gave a noncommittal shrug. "That and . . . "

Um. "Rides when you need a car?" he said. 

She thought about it. Then she looked him in the eyes and leaned over. Slowly. She was still wearing her high heels and she leaned way over, keeping her back straight and her knees locked. He suddenly felt very small and naughty. She put her face close to his and put a finger under his chin and lifted it up high. 

"I want you. In your playroom. For 24 hours," she said softly. 

"Oh, yes," he said. 

"Oh, yes, what?" she said. 

"Yes . . . Mistress?" he whispered.

"Good boy," she breathed into his ear and slowly straightened up. 

That subby little fuck, she thought. Knew it. Knew the master shit was an act and what he really wanted was to kiss a bitch's boots and get spanked.

She turned and went back into the house. It was a good exit, but there was a problem. He hadn’t moved. She turned around to see why he was still kneeling on her dirty porch in her bad neighborhood. 

"I'm stuck," he said. "My knee locked and I can't stand up."

She laughed, but only a little, as she helped him into her apartment. 

 

It was basically one room, with a lumpy futon and an old wooden chair. She still had little grocery bags with books all over the floor and there was a Styrofoam cooler that, apparently, was the refrigerator. There was no bathroom evident and the stove looked downright scary. 

"This is probably illegal," he said as she let him stretch out on the futon. 

She gave him an irritated look. "It's affordable."

"Met the neighbors?" he said. The crackheads and dealers, he thought to himself. 

She shrugged. "A few. That's why I didn't open the door right away," she said. 

Jeez, he had to convince her to move. She came back with a bag of frozen peas from the cooler to put on his knee. He noticed that she had clothes soaking in her kitchen sink. 

Laundry. She was doing her laundry in the apartment. She was definitely running out of money. 

"You want to come over and do your laundry . . . " she was looking at him in a way that made him rethink his offer. She thought he was making a move on her and she didn't want him to. "No, seriously. I have a washer and dryer that you know I'm not using and . . . "

She kept looking at him but she didn't look as mad. 

"Please?" he tried. "We could get pizza?"

"Yeah, all right," she said. 

 

It took a few minutes to wring out her stuff and put it into (Smith's) grocery bags to drive to his house. On the drive over, she looked at him. 

"OK, why?" she said. 

"Why what?" he said, glancing over. 

"Why don't you have an actual girlfriend?" she said. 

"Oh, um, you know," he fumbled. Pause. "I did. I had a great girlfriend named Amy. She was super smart and funny and a great detective. Very hot. We were good for a while and then -- " he shrugged. "Dad died in a plane crash. He was a pilot but still – I just didn't expect it to happen. My mom wanted me to help her – I mean, they had been divorced for a while but they were still friends, you know? And she was pretty sad and stuff and . . . I just didn't want to go back to Brooklyn and leave her. Amy understood and we just let it go between us. " He nodded as if that explained everything. 

"That was a long time ago?" she asked.

"Couple years," he said. "Then Mom met Vic and they got married and moved to his house and I moved into this one and . . . then, well, I was on this case." He cleared his throat. "I was on this case. There was a guy – a dead guy – and he had a slave who was very messed up. Very angry and violent. The Authority guys were telling me that the slave would be put down because they didn't have enough rehabbers to help him be better behaved, you know? So I said 'sure, I'll take him' because I had this big house and . . . I don't know, I just thought I could be helpful so they won't put him down and . . . so the Authority guys said they'd hold him until I could get certified and then they'd send him over." They pulled up at his house and got her laundry started. She even borrowed clothes from him so she could wash what she was wearing. 

In an effort to keep his mind off the fact – the undeniable fact – that she looked smoking hot in a t shirt and boxers, he continued the story of why he was a pathetic loser with no girlfriend.

"So, I took the certification class and they sent this guy over. He was a big dude and still pretty pissed but I was stupid-cocky and thought 'no problem,' right? Turns out – and I was very lucky, when I think about it – this guy couldn't hear! Like, something had happened sometime in his life and he lost his hearing and everybody kept beating him up because he didn't do what they said but he couldn't hear them! Anyway, after I figured it out, Max turned out to be a pretty ok guy and he went some place where it didn't matter if he was deaf – like a job with loud machinery or something – so he came out ok."

"And then they sent you another one?" she said. 

"Yeah, they kept coming and you know, I didn't -- " feel lonely, he thought – "have time for girlfriend stuff." Until you came, he thought. "And now, I guess my mom thinks I should, you know, be farther along with my life and she worries about me." 

There was an uncomfortable silence. 

"Pizza?" she said. 

 

They moved to the study and ate in front of the fire as the night got colder and darker. He could stop thinking about how his life looked to his mom as Elena caught him up with her tale of woe.

"So, the Smith's job is on hold," she said. "Somebody in corporate took a look at my application and said that I was not qualified to hold my job – which I made up, by the way, based on my own qualifications – because I didn't have a college diploma. In fact, I did not have a high school diploma, so, obviously I should just take a little break until I magically acquire those two credentials and then, gosh darn it, I can have my job back. Meanwhile, of course, I starve to death." She took a savage bite of pizza. 

She looked embarrassed. "Thank you for buying me pizza, Jake," she said while looking at the ground. 

His heart ached. "Of course – " he stopped himself from saying 'honey' – "any time."

"Oh, and the library is pissed at me, too," she said. 

"What the heck did you do at the library?" he said. 

"I misshelved some stuff and it turned out I have to get glasses," she said miserably.

"Well, yeah," he said. "If you need glasses, you have to get glasses."

She looked at him like he was an idiot and shook her head. She spread her hands out, inviting him to look at her. She had nothing. She wasn't even wearing her own clothes. Where was the money for glasses going to come from? 

He grasped the concept and shifted uncomfortably. "Can't you get welfare or food stamps or something?" he said.

She shook her head. "No birth certificate, no social security number, no proof of residency. I don't even have a mailing address."

What, the crack den didn't have an official address? He was shocked. He was about to say she could to use his house address when she continued "oh, and my family –" she shook her head.

"You heard back from them?" he asked excitedly. He had used his advanced detective powers to find an address for her brother and father. 

"Yeah, I wrote to them and gave them my number. My brother called and said I was a . . . well, a thief, I guess . . . and that his sister was dead and I should never contact him again."

There was a silence. "Do you want me to call him? Explain what happened and that you're, you know . . . " not dead, he was about to say. 

Not your sweet virginal 9 year old sister, she thought. 

"No, please don't," she said. "Let it go, at least for now." She took her clothes out of the dryer and thought about her apartment, which had no heat, no lights, and rats as big as a Chihuahua. She went back to the study.

"Want to . . . " fool around, she thought – but something got lost in translation because Jake said "yeah, if you want to" in a hesitant way. Wait, Jake was hesitant about sex? No, oops. She had been looking at the chess set by the fireplace when she made her offer. Now she had to play chess.   
Shit, she hated chess. Daddy (the CPA) made her play for hours because he loved it and just assumed (never asked, really) that she did, too. Fine.   
They played for a bit. It was clear that she was the stronger player and could end the game quickly but that would be boring and felt rude. Instead she took a few of his pieces and then let her mind wander while he pondered his next move. 

The trouble with thinking about having sex is that it's hard to *stop* thinking about having sex. She squirmed a little bit in the arm chair and then, as silently as possible, made a few changes and obtained an accessory. 

"W-What are you doing?" he said when he glanced up at her. She was obviously naked. She had her feet up by her hips on the armchair and he could see she had something in her hand which was being used to . . . caress herself . . . oh, my. "Um?" he said. 

" J'adoube," she said. 

She had adjusted herself alright. Into a straight guy's fantasy position. "Um," he said.

"Yes?" she purred.

"Is that my bishop?" he said. 

She opened a few fingers of her hand so he could see that she was, indeed, masturbating with his bishop. "I figured . . . religious guy . . . probably doesn't get out much . . . " she said as her eyes closed and the bishop's head went into the Cave of Wonders again. 

She opened one eye and looked at him. "Would you rather I used your king? Or your queen?" He kept looking at her. "I could clean him off and use . . . something else of yours?" She rubbed the bishop on her lips like a shiny lipstick applicator and curled her tongue around his little mitre.

"That's it," Jake said. "That's fucking it." He stood up so quickly he knocked the board over. He jammed his pants down and stroked himself hard in front of her. "Don't fuck with my bishop again," he growled as he slammed into her so hard it rocked the arm chair back onto its back legs. "Never, ever push that chess piece into your dripping snatch ever, ever again. Do you hear me?"

"Yes –" she nearly said Master – "Jake," she said. "I will respect your toys from now on. I will never fondle your Mousetrap or suck on your Slinky."

He couldn't keep up the act anymore and started to laugh. He missed her. The violent sex was slowed down and became a gentle fuck between friends with lots of hugging and kissing and slow finish on the fuzzy rug in front of the fireplace. 

 

Later in the evening, Jake decided he was "up for" some ice cream, but there wasn't any in the house. 

"I'm going out to get stuff," he said. "Want anything?"

"No puppies," she said from her boneless position in front of the fireplace. 

"What?" he said, coming over to peer down at her.

Damn, had she just said that? Why would she say private stuff to Jake the not-very-masterful master? Doesn't mean he gets to know important things.   
Fuck. 

"What did you mean about puppies?" he asked again.

She sighed. "Ok, this isn't a very nice story," she said. "Are you sure you want to hear it?" 

He nodded.

"I know you know about slave signs and signals."

He nodded.

"There are stories, situations, that happen that we all know about . . . OK." She started again. "This happened to a lot of people I know and me, you know, too." 

He was looking puzzled.

"In a lot of households, the slaves look after the pets and the children and stuff, right? So, let's just say the master gets a puppy or a kitten or a . . . baby" she swallowed "and it's your job to take care of them and feed them and give them water and stuff and then one day you do something or maybe nothing and then you're in a cage. You can hear the puppy or the kitten or the . . . you know, baby . . . crying and it needs to eat or drink or something but you can't get out. They cry and you can hear them and . . . it gets worse and then . . . you can't hear them . . . and then the master comes back and you . . . they make you look at the . . . puppy or the kitten or the . . . and it's too late and they . . . oh, fuck. You know, they died."

"Did this really happen?" he asks quietly.

"Yes, it fucking really happened! It really happened to everybody! That's why we say this" she made a quick hand gesture – a small shadow puppet dog head with her thumb under her straightened fingers, rocking back and forth – "when people ask us what we want. We just don't want to take care of another living thing. We can't keep them safe!" She pulled her t-shirt down over her knees and stared at the fire. 

"Did this happen to you?" Jake asked.

She nodded.

He hugged her awkwardly and kissed her head. "I will get you ice cream. I will not get a puppy. I'll be back in a minute."

 

When he got back, he curled up behind her on the rug in front of the fireplace while they ate their ice cream. She had no idea why she would ever share secret slave stuff with him. She'd never told anybody before but then again, she'd never had a master who had noticed that the slaves were communicating with each other in gestures.

"I'm sorry I told you that about puppies," she said.

"I don't –" he started, but she held up a hand.

"If you're really going to know slave signs, then you should know these." She touched the thumb of her left hand to the side of her first finger. "That means 'danger.' 'We're in danger,' 'don't trust anybody', 'look out.' OK?" 

He nodded and did the sign. So slowly and obviously that she smiled at him, but he took it as encouragement.

"And this one." She raised the pinky of her left hand and lowered it quickly. "'We're safe.' You can use it to ask if you're safe and they say either 'safe' or 'danger', OK?"

He nodded and did both signs. She smiled at him. OK. 

It was getting late. He drove her back to Birdland and tried not to look as she walked away. He practiced his hand signs. "Safe" he signed. Elena be safe.


	2. Makeup

When Jake dropped her off at the apartment, she was less than excited to pick up her life. There were some features that she really liked – not having to worry about being sent back to the Authority or sold was great, but there were some that were profoundly unsettling. 

For example, she had never lived alone before. The first night in the apartment was terrifying. There was no electricity, so she had no lights and when she heard the rats start scurrying across her plastic grocery bags, she started to whine and move from one side of the room to the other, not sure what to do.

She ended up under the futon, wearing all of her six pieces of clothing and using one of her two pair of shoes as a pillow and the other one on her feet, with bags of books barricading all openings. It was a long, long night and when she staggered out into to use the communal toilet in the yard that morning, her upstairs neighbor took pity on her. 

"Honey, you look like you didn't get a wink," she said. "My name's Miss Jessie and why don't you come up to my house and I'll see if I can't get you a little bite of breakfast?"

Elena stared at her, unable to figure out what she was saying with all of the double negatives and polite phrases. "You want to help me?" she said, stupidly.

"Yes, I do, honey," she said slowly. "You look like you could need some help."

Elena had been told all of her life that she was different from free people. That they would just be able to tell she was not like them. They would never just give her things. She would always have to figure out what they wanted from her in return. It had been simple at Smith's and the library – they wanted her to do a job and they would pay her if she did it. The friend at the library wanted her to take care of the cat and she would give her a house and some nice clothes to wear.

But what could this woman possibly want? What could she give? Miss Jessie was about sixty years old and had a house and food for breakfast. Elena had nothing. It was impossible to understand what was going on and Elena had no words.

Fortunately, Miss Jessie didn't wait. "Well, come along. Let's get you something."

Miss Jessie gave her toast and coffee and told her all about the neighborhood. It used to be nicer, back when she was growing up, but it's "just fine," she said. She had a network of people that she could count on. 

"How about you, honey? What's your name? You got anybody?" she said.

Elena shook her head. She didn't, at this point, feel like she even had a name. She had been using Ellen Andrews at the library and the grocery store, but that felt wrong. She lost those jobs and that life and that name. 

"My name is Elena. I don't have anybody. I used to be a slave," she said quietly. 

"Well, huh," Miss Jessie said. "I didn't know that could happen." A long time ago, whole families were enslaved – all the members, for all of their lives, and their children's lives because their freedom was forfeit for rebelling against the Union. If your grandfather was enslaved, you were enslaved. There was no freedom. There were no freed slaves. 

Miss Jessie patted her knee. "Honey, we're just going to have to get comfortable while you tell me this whole story. Why don't you hand me that knitting basket?"

A long time later, Elena went back downstairs to her apartment. Miss Jessie had given her a cooler with a bag of frozen peas and some popsicles as well as a box of cereal and a jar of peanut butter. "Jimmy's gonna be by at nighttime so we can go shopping," she said. 

"Miss Jessie, I have no money," Elena said.

Jessie laughed and patted her knee. "Not that kind of shopping, honey," she said.

After dark, a teenager knocked on her window and said "Miss Elena?" 

Elena went out and followed him around the corner to the big pharmacy and convenience store where everybody in the neighborhood got their groceries. "Miss Jessie 'round back," he said and then he disappeared down the street.

Behind the building, Miss Jessie and Preacher Brown, another neighborhood elder and Elena's landlord, were standing next to the dumpsters. "Well, go on," Miss Jessie said to Elena. 

"I beg your pardon?" Elena said.

"She means for you to go on up in there," Preacher Brown said, gesturing to the dumpsters, "and get what's in there."

"What's in there?" Elena said, definitely not catching on.

"Just get, girl!" he said. 

She got. She was glad she was wearing her shorts and t-shirt, rather than her other outfit, the nice blouse and skirt, but the shower shoes made climbing up the side of the dumpster difficult. She gingerly lowered herself onto the piles of boxes and trash, not sure what she was supposed to be looking for.

"Miss Jessie?" she asked.

"You go on and hand me anything you think we can use," her neighbor called up to her. "Anything like food or medicine or makeup or something like that."

"Ok . . ." Elena said. She handed a box of fruit rollups and some mascara over the side. "Like this?"

"That good, honey!" Miss Jessie said. "You just look underneath where they hide the good stuff. There's always good stuff hidden way down there."

This is scary, Elena thought. Am I going to get in trouble? Am I going to get stuck in here? What if there's like, needles, and stuff?

But the "shopping" trip went well. Preacher Brown and Miss Jessie said Elena could "come on out now" when they each had armloads of expired or damaged merchandise, so Elena climbed out of the dumpster and helped them get everything back to Miss Jessie's house. The older people divided up the items into what they wanted to keep and what they would sell at the permanent yard sale at Preacher Brown's house. Miss Jessie gave Elena all the make-up because "you need to help yourself look pretty for the men" and the fruit rollups.

"We'll come by later on so as you can help us at the other stores," Preacher Brown said. 

The next night, she found herself looking forward to Jimmy's knock on her window and she got better at picking out what the other people would find useful.

On the fourth day in her new apartment, she looked out to find Jake kneeling on her porch. It had been a bit shocking, but an afternoon playing chess and eating pizza was a nice change from wading through bathroom trash in a dumpster. 

But as soon as he pulled away after their pleasant evening, Jimmy's anxious face peered in through her window. "What's up?" she said when she opened the door.

"That cop coming back?" he said, looking around her room.

"Nope, not tonight," she said. "We going shopping?" He nodded. Fortunately, Elena learned after the first time that shower shoes tended to fall off while dumpster diving. So she was wearing her other pair of shoes, the high heels, and Jake's t-shirt and gym shorts as she followed Jimmy down to the main street.

As she stepped off the curb, a big black sedan pulled up right in front of her. Jimmy's eyes widened and then he disappeared into an alley. The passenger side window rolled down and Jake's lieutenant leaned over from the driver's seat. 

"Get in," he said. 

"Is Jake ok?" she asked and then kicked herself. Nobody would come and get her if he needed help. He had actual friends and an actual family. 

"Get the fuck in the car," he said. 

She got in.

 

He drove away from crowded Birdland and out into the area with the big buildings, empty parking lots, and no streetlights.

"Get out," he said. 

She got out. He got out. He stood in front of her.

"What the fuck are you waiting for?" he said. She looked at him in confusion. 

He punched her in the stomach. She fell to her knees, gasping. 

"That's better," he said, as he lowered his zipper and grabbed the back of her head. 

She had fallen awkwardly and had to shuffle her knees underneath her to get her balance. She tried not to touch him because that seemed to work last time. Of course, last time, Jake was watching and this time . . . she had no idea where this was going. It didn't seem like one blow job was all the lieutenant was going to want. 

"There you go, bitch. Come on," he said as she opened her mouth as wide as possible. 

In some ways it was easier, because he just grabbed the sides of her face and slammed his cock down her throat over and over. On the other hand, she was getting dizzy and struggling to breathe and had no way of trying to get him off faster so he would finally come. "Come on!" he shouted as he held her face against his pubic hair. "Fucking bitch!" 

She closed her mouth around him and tried to swallow as she gagged. It worked. He came. At first it was right down her throat, but then he pulled out and started to stripe her face. "There you go, you stupid bitch. All pretty for me. Fucking whore. Aren't so stuck up now, are you? Jake can just go fuck himself, 'cause I fucked his bitch girlfriend."

Wait, what was that?

He pulled her braid down and spit in her face. "You're a stupid bitch, aren't you?" he said. "Say it!"

"Yes, sir," she said. "I'm a stupid bitch."

"No 'sir,' you stupid cunt. 'Master.' I'm your fucking master now," he said. 

In your dreams, she thought, but she said "yes, Master. I'm a stupid bitch."

"Damn right you are. Now, get back in the car, and don't get anything on the seats," he said, dragging her back to the black sedan.


	3. Dolly

"You like that, huh?" the lieutenant said. They were in his house and he was rubbing his cum into her hair.

No, I don't, she thought. Not particularly.

 

After the blowjob in the parking lot, he had driven her back to his nice suburban ranch house and locked her in a guest room. She could hear him talking to someone, telling them good-bye, and then he came for her.

"Ok, bitch," he said. "It's all set. You gonna be good for me?" 

She looked at him without saying anything. 

"Come on, bitch," he said. "Don't you get it? Jakey doesn't want a stupid dirty whore like you. He said I could have you for as long as I wanted."

I thought you called me his girlfriend. She started to shake her head and back away.

"Poor dumb bitch. You thought he loved you. You gotta know that you're not the only one he fucks, you know. He's got a bunch of sweet cunts he takes home and" he grins a nasty smile "plays games with." 

Chess? Was he talking about chess? 

"Sure . . ." he said as he started to slide his hands up under her t-shirt. 

She opened her mouth to say something but he grabbed her breasts and started squeezing. "Now, don't you say anything stupid, right?"

"I'm not a whore," she said.

"Suspect observed at the corner of Main and 14th approaching cars at the intersection. Suspect approached and asked if the officer was interested in 'partying'. Suspect named a price for each sexual act. Suspect was arrested, apprised of her rights, and booked for solicitation."

"But," Elena said.

"I am just taking a break before driving you down to the station. You don't mind, do you? It's been a long day," he said. Sliding his hands around her back, he pulled her closer. He pushed her back on to the bed and started easing her shorts down. 

"No, please," she started to say.

He climbed on top of her and sat on her hips while he unbuttoned his pants and pulled his zipper down. "Don't know where a skanky whore like you has been," he said while getting a condom out of the bedside table. "Gotta protect myself."

He rolled the condom on his cock and used his thumbs to push her cunt apart. "There we go, you're all nice and wet, gonna feel real good" and shoved his cock into her. She closed her eyes and turned her head to the side. 

"Now, come on. Gotta show me you like it," he said while he grabbed her face and turned it toward him.

What the heck? She thought. Oh, right. He wants me to moan like a whore. What a stupid fuck.

"Oh, yeah," she said, trying to put some emotion other than disgust into her voice. "Yeah, like that . . . "

"Master," he said.

"Yes, Master. You're so good. Just like that," she said, wracking her brain for anything she had ever heard about what real porno stars said. She'd only seen one or two and hadn't really paid attention. Maybe he would like the thanking thing – "Thank you so much for fucking me, Master" she tried.

"You damn right you better thank me, you fucking whore," he said.

Yup, thanking thing worked.

Well, this she could do without really thinking about it. She thanked him continuously for anything she could think of – touching her, filling her up, making her feel so good – until he finally grabbed her throat and squeezed until he came and fell over on top of her.

Awesome, she thought. I'm back to this. Some heavy, sweaty man comes in me and makes me thank him for it. At least as a slave there was an end point; at 30 she could look forward to euthanasia, which she'd heard looked painless. Being treated like a slave but actually being free meant that this could go on forever. When the lieutenant took her back to the police station and charged her with prostitution, there was no way the library or the grocery store would ever want to hire her again, even if she got her degree. This was it. 

Jake would never want her, either.

A 29 year old whore won't get a lot of high paying customers. A lot of cheap johns in empty parking lots with the police knowing exactly who she is and what she's doing. She'd be lucky not to get robbed of what little she could make. Once she was booked, this dream she almost had was going to end.

Her thoughts were interrupted by something cold and slimy being rubbed into her hair. The fun doesn't stop, she thought. The sick fuck had actually poured the cum out of the condom and onto her head and was rubbing it into her hair. 

"You like that, huh?" the lieutenant said. 

No, I don't, she thought. Not particularly.

 

When he was done styling her hair, he got off her and went out, locking the door again. She could hear him moving around the house, taking a shower, and making a phone call to someone about plans for the next day. 

"Hey, I heard you took care of Can't Lose. Good, that's good. Yeah, she's gonna be away all weekend, so we got plenty of time. Wanna come over and watch the game? We can even smoke in the fucking house for once," he said. "Yeah, I got her. I know, yeah, she's not bad. She's gonna work out – I don't know what'll happen when Carol gets back. You want me to bring her over to your place or you just wanna throw her off that bridge this time instead of leaving her on it?"

Oh, shit. Elena thought. He's talking to that fucking taxi driver. About coming over and watching the game. 

Well, she thought, at least he's not talking about bringing her to the station. Or, maybe this is worse. 

The lieutenant pounded on the door. "Come on, bitch. Time for a shower and a potty break."

He unlocked the door and pointed down the hall at the bathroom door. "Go ahead," he said. She did not enjoy walking past him in the narrow hallway, but she opened the door to the bathroom.

And screamed.

There was a naked woman hanging from the ceiling. 

Elena jumped back and turned to run out of the room, but the lieutenant caught her and held her in place. "There, there, there," he said, rubbing his hands on her stomach and breasts. "Now it's just Dolly, honey. Your competition."

She slowly turned and looked at the woman again. It was a sex doll. A very realistic sex doll. Hanging by its neck. 

She turned and looked up at the policeman. "Why is it . . . " she started to say.

"Don't say 'it'. Say 'she,'" he said, tightening his grip.

"Why is she . . . hanging up like that?" Elena asked.

"Because then I can fuck her cunt, don't cha see?" he said. He leaned over and pulled on the doll's leg and it – she – swung into position with her crotch at the same height as the lieutenant's. "OK, now you get all clean and take a piss and then we'll see about some food, ok?"

This is my competition, she thought as the lieutenant closed the bathroom door partway. She turned the water on and tried not to look at the doll as she washed the cum out of her hair.

 

The lieutenant was leaning on the kitchen counter watching the microwave when she dressed and came out. 

"Now you didn’t have to go and put clothes on, honey," he said. "Why don't you take them off and come up here on the counter?"

She took off her clothes and put them in her room as unobtrusively as she could. She came back into the kitchen and climbed up on the cold, hard, granite. 

"Go ahead and lay down," he said.

Lie down, she corrected to herself.

After she had stretched herself out on the counter, he took chicken nuggets out of the microwave and set the container down by her head. He got a bottle of ketchup out of the refrigerator and held it over her stomach. "Anticipation," he sang.

Plop, the cold, cold ketchup fell into her bellybutton. She squirmed. This is not sexy, she thought. This is gross. 

Then he got a fork, speared one of the nuggets, and pressed it against her ribs. She gave a yelp as the hot grease burned her and she twisted away. 

"No, no," he said and moved the nugget into the ketchup. "Mmmm, that's tasty," he said. 

Well, she thought. This is familiar. Fourth master had loved burning her, too. My life goes in circles.

Finally, he was down to the last nugget. He put it in his mouth and chewed it thoroughly. Then he started spitting the food into his hand. "I bet you thought I forgot about you, didn't you, darling? Well, here you go."

He pushed his thumb against her lips and into her mouth with one hand and, when it was open, poured the chewed mess into her mouth. "You been a good girl, haven't you?" He held his hand over her mouth until she swallowed. "Now go on back into the bathroom and wash yourself off. You got all dirty again."

Not sexy, she thought. Just gross.

 

The evening was long. He was not able to get an erection again, so he fondled her and bit her nipples and earlobes while he watched sports on tv. At last he decided it was time for bed.

Being taken to the master bedroom was not surprising. Being handcuffed to the headboard was not surprising. What was surprising was when he said "see you in the morning," took a sleeping pill, and was out like a light. 

Well, she thought. I hate to complain that this kidnapping and rape is boring but . . . it is, a little bit.

She spent a long time thinking about what the lieutenant said about Jake. He said he had other women and that he didn't want her because she was a hooker, but neither of those things seemed true. His house was dirty and he seemed desperate for her company last night. He didn't think she was a hooker, though he knew she didn't have much money. 

Still, Jake wasn't her . . . anything. He wasn't her master or her boyfriend. He was kind of a friend but a distant one. They weren't really close and there was a lot they couldn't talk about. 

He probably didn't care that she was having sex with his boss. In fact, she had had oral sex with his boss right in front of him and he encouraged her. Well, fuck you, Jake. Maybe this wasn't his fault entirely (or at all, she told herself) but maybe the lieutenant would never have met her or wanted to have her if Jake hadn't brought him over for dinner. 

It was a long, angry night without much sleep.


	4. A Big Boy

"Up you go, bitch," he said. 

Oh, she thought. Last night it was "darling"; today it's bitch. 

He unlocked her handcuffs, swung her over onto all fours and dug his elbows into her kidneys while he tore open a condom packet. "Gonna be good for me today?" he asked as he poked around ineffectively for her opening. 

"Yes, Master," she said, and tried to position herself so that he could stop banging into her pelvis. Finally, he successfully inserted his cock into her cunt and started fucking. As all of her masters had (except Jake, really), he discovered that her braid was an excellent handle when doing it doggie style and he started pulling it harder and harder until she was more less bent in half. 

"Oh, yeah, bitch. Take it –" and then he came into the condom and let go of her hair. "Gotta get to work, so let's go," he said, pulling out.

This is it, she thought. He's going to take her to the station and book her for prostitution. 

First, though, he let her go to the bathroom. Then he gave her two pieces of toast and a glass of water. Then he pushed her into the guest room and locked the door. She got dressed and waited nervously to be dragged back out and into the black sedan but then she heard the garage door open and saw the car pull away.

Wait, what? No police station today? she thought. I'm just going to stay here? Was that a good thing? Well, no, not if that fucking taxi driver came over to watch the game tonight or Carol came back and she had to go to the taxi driver's house or over the bridge. Locked in the guest room was not necessarily better than being arrested. 

She waited to make certain there was nobody in the house and it seemed she was alone. She waited for . . . not sure what she waited for. Something.   
Finally, she needed to pee and that was it. There was no way that she was going to hold her pee for however many hours and there was no way she was going to piss in the corner like a bad dog. There had to be some way out.

After checking out the door hinges (on the outside and inaccessible), breaking the glass of the window (there was nothing heavy that she could lift and she was too chicken to just punch it), she climbed up on the window sill and investigated the top of the double hung windows. Nice! The bottom of the double hungs were nailed shut but she could push the top down and then bend the screen till it popped out and bam! She fell out the window.

Well, hello. The teenage boy who was mowing the lawn nearly had a heart attack when she landed at his feet. The mower sputtered to a stop inches from her head. "Hi! Sorry about that!" she said as she got to her feet. Might be time for a little strategy. She did not want the boy to worry about her or, God forbid, ask the lieutenant if that lady who fell out of his window was ok, if only for his own safety. Better if he was embarrassed and never mentioned it again. "Aren't you a big boy?" she said, pressing herself against his jeans, palming his erection, and giving his balls a squeeze. His face turned beet red and he bit his lip. "I’ll see you around," she said as she walked back through the backyards, away from the main road. Maybe he would think she lived here and was a desperate housewife or something. She heard the mower turn back on and hoped he would be ok.

She walked until she thought the kid couldn't see her any more, but she was totally lost. She had never been in this fancy subdivision before and all the houses were nearly identical and the roads curved confusingly. She was in high heels, a t-shirt, and shorts in a place where all the people outside were exercising in spandex or mowing lawns. She stood next to a bus stop sign but realized she had no money if the bus ever actually came. She sighed and dialed a very familiar number.

"Allen Accounting" a voice answered.

"Daddy?" Elena said. "Could you come pick me up?"


	5. Nest Egg

Jake was trying to focus on work but was thinking about Elena's nasty little apartment. He was thinking about a lot of things, really. He looked up GED classes to see how she could get a high school diploma. He looked up if the local community college offered bachelor's degrees (it didn't). He looked up how to get on food stamps and Medicaid. (She likely would qualify for food stamps but not Medicaid.) He looked up how expensive eye exams and glasses were if you didn't have insurance (not too bad.) He looked up "j'adoube" just to make sure he knew what it meant (he hadn't.) He thought about everything except Tony Marchetti, which was a problem because his lieutenant was walking up to his desk to ask him about the task force and he needed to sound like he was making progress.

"How's that task force, Jake?" the lieutenant said.

"Fine, sir. We're making progress on some things," he said.

"Oh, yeah? Like what?" 

"Well, we've identified some of the families and businesses that Tony was working over. We figured out at least one of the missing persons in our area was a victim of his but matching DNA is taking forever. We have some idea of which businesses they were using for illegal cash transactions but the financials are a nightmare and we're getting nowhere. We might –"

"Which business was the money laundering one?" the lieutenant interrupted.

"Probably the bonded taxi service," Jake said. "Lots of cash, not a lot of records for the non-slave side. We're going to bring that guy in who beat up Elena, you remember, that slave who was staying with me?"

"You're gonna bring him in, huh?"

"Right, we have him doing the most calls that were paid in cash but the books don't match what he said he was bringing in on those days, so we want to talk to him about it."

"Sounds good, Jakey," the lieutenant said. "Whatever happened to that little piece anyway?"

"Oh, you probably heard. She's a kidnapping victim, so she was freed from slavery and working at Smith's," Jake said.

"At Smith's, huh? That's funny, Jake, 'cause I heard she was working a corner of Main and 14th up in Birdland last night," the lieutenant said, unable to resist fucking with Jake. 

"What? No. I better call her," Jake pulls out his phone and starts to call her number.

That little bitch has a phone? She didn't have a phone on her last night, did she? Fuck! Where would she put a phone in those floppy shorts? God damn it.

"Got a meeting!" the lieutenant said as he hurried out of the building. "Back later!"

 

Elena felt the phone ringing in the secret pocket she had sewn into Jake's gym shorts but ignored it because Daddy Allen's big Lincoln was pulling up to the curb. 

"Hi, Daddy!" she said excitedly, feeling about 10 years younger. "Thank you so much!"

"Sure thing, Ellie," he said as he pulled away and went back to the highway.

She relaxed into the comfortable leather seats. "How are you, Daddy? How is Jacqueline?" she asked, asking after his new wife because Daddy had raised her to be polite.

"We're just fine, sweetie. What about you? How did you get lost in that neighborhood?" he asked.

"I’m fine. I had a job but it didn't work out," she felt awkward about going into details. She knew she should be mad at him. He obviously knew she had been kidnapped and was never supposed to belong to him but it was so hard to be mad at someone she had loved for so long. 

"A job? You had a job doing what, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Working at the library," she said. She couldn't mention Smith's because it had to do with slavery and she didn't want to mention the topic around him. 

"Well, you'd be really good at that. You love the library. Knew that place like the back of your hand," he said warmly.

He turned the Lincoln and they exited the highway. This was not the way back to his house.

"Daddy? Where are we going?" she asked, turning to face him.

"Well, honey, I just wanted you to be safe," he said.

She started to feel very cold in the big car. He wanted her to be safe when he sold her to Master Philip the banker. "Daddy?"

"Master Philip said he'd love to have you back, Ellie. He said he has a new baby and he wants you to take care of it. I know you'd do a really good job for him," he said as he slowed the car down to turn onto the local road.

Unconsciously, her thumb touched the straightened fingers of her right hand and rocked back and forth. She opened the car door and dove out as he accelerated onto the new road.

"Ellie!" he yelled, but she was running down the exit ramp and under the overpass back the way they had come. She heard the cars honking behind him and knew that he would not stop traffic to look for her. 

Fuck high heels, she thought as she walked along the highway, facing the traffic. Fuck them to hell, she thought as she turned off the highway and started to walk cross country back to town. The little trip with Daddy Allen had gotten her to within sight of the bridge that the taxi driver had left her on, which was near to Jake's house, and from there she could find her way back to Birdland.

When she came to the bridge, she went down the embankment underneath it and stopped by the little river that flowed there to sit and soak her feet. She could see that a lot of trash had collected on the bank and idly looked over to see what junk had washed up.

And saw a naked man.

She jumped backwards and gave a little scream.

No, wait, she thought to herself. Is this a doll again? She leaned over to the pasty, white face of the man on the riverbank. Nope, actual dead guy.   
This body wasn't naked, at least. He had a suit on.

She gingerly opened the suit jacket and could see a wallet. She could also see money sticking out of the wallet. She could feel that she hadn't eaten very much today and would love some of that money. Fuck it, she said, and eased the wallet out of his pocket.

The guy had $1,000 on him. She thought about it. She pocketed it. She looked at his driver's license. Francis. 

Oh, shit. She thought. Francis Marchetti. Tony's smarter brother, Frankie. Frankie Can't Lose. Fuck.

She needed to tell Jake, but she didn't want to give the money back. It was getting dark and she didn't want to be alone with a dead body.

She finally got up the nerve to get her phone out. What if the lieutenant was there? What if Jake didn't want to talk to her?

She turned the phone on. Excellent Internet connection and full battery. She found the websites she was looking for and took a series of pictures of herself and what was around her.

 

Jake's phone began buzzing non-stop. Messages from Elena. Pictures. 

A hand – the sign for danger. A picture from the department's website of the lieutenant, the taxi service logo from their website, Frankie fucking Marchetti's ugly dead face, and his driver's license. A picture of the sign for safe and Elena's face. 

The tracking app on her phone showed her next to a river about a mile from the station, then the signal disappeared. "Elena's phone is offline." Of course she knew about the tracking app. 

The lieutenant wasn't back yet, so he let the other members of the task force know and they rolled out to check out the body by the river. If this really was Frankie, then that makes Tony's involvement with the family business even more important.

What about the lieutenant and the taxi service? Were they in danger? Were they dangerous? He called the lieutenant and left a message. "Hey, boss," he said. "Can't Lose just turned up dead. I'm heading out with the task force to see how this all ties in. I'll call later."

 

Jake had just gotten down to the river bank – no sign of Elena – when he heard the lieutenant swear loudly behind him. "Fuck it, Jake! How did he die?"

"Not sure yet, Lou. Gotta wait for the ME," Jake said. The lieutenant sure got here fast. Wonder which member of the task force called him?

The other members straggled down, greeting Jake, and trying not to disturb the evidence. "When was Frankie last seen, Mitch?" Jake asked the task force member from Major Crimes, who knew all of the Marchettis' movements. 

"Yesterday," he said. "Got him getting into a cab outside of the restaurant."

"Gotta track down that driver. Did you send me the video?" said Jake, checking his phone. 

"Yeah, you shoulda got it," Mitch said. "We've been copying all the video to you." 

Jake wandered away from the river and stood under the bridge, looking at his phone. 

Elena, hiding under the bridge deck, looked down on him. She was covered in pigeon shit and trying not to knock any nest crap down onto the policemen.   
She didn't have a lot of time to hide after she sent the message and decided to go up into the bridge rather than upstream or downstream. It was loud and hot and itchy, but nobody knew she was there and it felt safe. The $1,000 made her nervous, so she took $20 out and put it in her secret pocket and left the rest in a pigeon nest under the bridge deck. She had about a minute to think "nest egg" when the policemen started arriving.

The ME's arrival got the whole task force excited and they crowded around her except for Jake, who was still looking at his phone trying to find the last known video of Frankie Marchetti, and the lieutenant, who Elena could see was staring at the back of Jake's head.

Jake's boss moved to stand directly underneath her. He had something in his hand.

It was a gun. 

She jumped.

He fired.

 

As soon as the gun went off, she couldn't hear anything. She felt herself land on the lieutenant and knock the gun away. Jake was moving toward the river and away from them but he turned to see the lieutenant push Elena off into the dirt and start crawling for the gun. She tried to stand up to get to the gun first when Jake turned toward her. He pointed at something behind her but she couldn't turn to see it because she needed to stop the lieutenant from getting to the gun. Then something kicked her in the leg and she fell down. The world got dark and then she had to stop trying to move.

 

Jake felt something too close to the back of his neck and was turning to see what it was when he saw a body drop from the bridge above him. Then he heard the gun fire right next to his head – where his head had been a second before. He started falling back and drawing his weapon as he tried to understand that the tangled mess behind him was Elena trying to keep the lieutenant from getting to his gun. He had just understood this concept when a sudden movement from the embankment caught his eye and he looked up to see the taxi driver that had raped Elena standing there with his own weapon, aimed at her back. He pointed and she noticed, but she had her head down and was intent on ramming the lieutenant. The taxi driver and Jake fired at the same time. The driver fell and rolled down the embankment. Elena kept moving toward the lieutenant's gun on her own momentum, but then fell, sprawled in the dirt. By that time, someone else had tackled the lieutenant.

Jake's hearing was gone but he could see the task force and the ME scramble up the river bank when the shooting started. Someone started to check him over but he made himself say "I'm ok!" until they went away and started examining Elena, the driver, and the lieutenant.   
Jake started to head over to Elena, but Mitch stood in front of him and looked him in the face. "I'm ok" Jake said, probably too loudly. Mitch nodded and then looked over at the taxi driver. "That's the guy," he mouthed. Jake pointed at Frankie and raised his eyebrows. Mitch nodded. "Arrest him," Jake mouthed, not wanting to make any noise and give the plan away. Mitch nodded and went over to where the taxi driver was lying down with another task force member putting pressure on a wound in his side. Mitch and the task force member spoke quietly and seemed to agree on something.  
The ME was pressing something into Elena's leg and trying to take her pulse. She opened her eyes and looked at Jake. She looked over at the lieutenant and then back at him. "Danger," she signed. "Danger" he signed back at her. There was no way the lieutenant could have known Can't Lose was in the river unless he put him there. The lieutenant was dirty but he didn't know how Elena knew that. 

He looked at her. "Safe" he signed. "Safe" she signed back and then she closed her eyes.


	6. Perfect

Mitch was clean. The other six guys on the task force were probably clean. The lieutenant was a dirty as the fucking Marchettis. The taxi driver was a filthy canary who would tell every secret he knew in order to stay out of jail. 

Jake didn't care. He went to the hospital in the ambulance with Elena and wouldn't leave her room. She needed surgery and rehab and he knew he would help her through everything. 

If she let him. For twelve hours, he could only stand by while they sewed her up and poured medicine and pain killers into her. She was doped up or asleep for most of the time and Jake could only hover over her bed, getting in the way of the nurses and ignoring phone calls from the police department. Finally, Mitch and Dave, two of the task force members, came to the hospital.

"We got enough on the lieutenant to charge him," Mitch said carefully. 

Jake nodded and said "that's good."

"We think we can tie him to the Marchettis on Highway 10 and some of the money laundering," he continued. "It's thin on Frankie and we're hoping to talk to the girl and see what she knows. We know she sent you the pictures," Mitch said.

"What's with the ones with the hand?" Dave said.

Jake shook his head. Not important. "I'll talk to her when I can," he said. 

"You, uh," Mitch continued. "You're pretty close to her."

Jake nodded.

"You got a good idea where she was two days ago?" Mitch asked slowly.

"Yeah, she was with me," he says. "Eating pizza at my house."

Mitch nodded. "That's good, Jake," he said. He could tell Mitch was not positive how clean Jake was and it didn't look good that his lieutenant was in bed with the Marchettis. 

They all looked at each other uncomfortably for a few minutes and then headed out. "Let us know, ok, Jake?" Mitch asked and gestured toward the bed.

There was a few minutes of silence as they left and then he heard Elena say "I might be on a security camera."

He hurried over to her and held her hand. "Hey," he said. "Don't worry about it." He was silent for a minute. "OK, on a security camera doing what?"

"Getting picked up by the lieutenant at Main and 14th," she said. 

There were no working security camera on the street in Birdland and the lieutenant is not the best alibi witness just now, but he did tell Jake that he saw her on that corner in Birdland. "Why did he pick you up?" 

"He said I was soliciting," she said.

"Were you?" he asked.

"No," she sighed. 

"Where did he take you?"

"Warehouses and then to his house."

"Did anybody see you?" 

She shook her head. "Not till the next morning," she said, thinking of the lawn mower kid.

Jake could guess why the lieutenant would take her to the warehouses but he had to ask about the other. "Why his house?"

"He said he was going to book me in the morning, but then he locked me in his house. I waited until he left for work and then I broke out and nearly landed on a mower," she said. She looked at Jake and then closed her eyes and whispered "then I called Daddy."

"The lieutenant and then – wait. You called Daddy the CPA?" he said, trying to follow too many ideas.

She nodded. 

Jake had followed up on Elena's kidnapping but it was hard to make the charges stick. There was nothing he could do to the third and fourth masters because she was over 18. The statute of limitations had expired on the statutory rape and there was no concrete evidence that first two masters knew Elena was kidnapped and not enslaved. He couldn't convict the fuckers but, well, he could make them very uncomfortable, these business men with their pristine reputations. He had leverage and they had expertise. He called Mitch.

 

Elena was in the wheelchair and they were heading out of the hospital. "You got everything?" he asked her as they headed down the hall.

"Yeah, medicine and physical therapy stuff," she said. She still had no idea how she was going to pay for all of this. Jake said "don't worry about it," but that was not an answer. Her apartment was going to be tricky, too, because it had three steps up to the front door and she still was using crutches. At least the wound was below her shorts, so she could still wear them. 

She was distracted by picturing herself getting into her apartment in heels when she heard a big commotion ahead of her. She went cold with fear and tried to climb out of the wheelchair and go back the way they had come. 

"Wait, wait!" Jake said. He was smiling. "Look, see? They made signs."

"Get Well Soon Elena!" – was that Miss Jessie and Jimmy? "Keep Reading Miss Andrews!" – that one had to be from the library. "We Miss You!" – she recognized the manager from Smith's and one of the cashiers. She could feel her eyes getting wet.

"What's all this?" she whispered to Jake as she looked over her shoulder at him. "How did they know about me?"

"Oh, well, you're a little famous," he said. "Turns out that lady you catsit for owns the newspaper, did you know that?"

She shook her head.

"When she found out that you were 'the brave girl who saved the detective's life'" he grinned "she assigned a whole team of reporters who wrote very nice pieces about the Marchettis and all their criminal doings and the handsome cop who is leading the investigation. I even got your dirty little Daddies to help me go through the evidence and kept their names out of the newspaper." 

She grabbed at his hand and turned her pale face to him. "Did she write about me? Do they know what happened to me when I was little?" 

"No," he said and held her hand tightly. "Nobody mentioned your name. These are friends. They just know you got hurt trying to help me." 

She nodded warily but smiled when she saw all the people coming toward her and saying how good she looked.

"We took care of all your stuff," Miss Jessie said. Jimmy nodded seriously. "I might have taken those peas back because they got all melted."

Elena smiled. 

"We found a discount optometrist 2.7 miles away," said the head librarian as she came over to Elena's wheelchair. "It's on a bus line, but we can investigate if the Access bus will take you while you're incapacitated."

Elena started to laugh. She was just perfect and had no idea.

"Oh sweetie," said the cashier as she bent down to hug Elena. "We were all worried and Mr. Rosenbaum made a welcome home basket for you."

Elena smiled at the manager who was getting verklempt and then peered around for the basket.

"I sent it to your house," he said. 

Elena thought about how long a Smith's basket would last on her doorstep in Birdland and sighed. 

"He means with me," Jake said. "That's, uh, that's your house."

She looked at him. 

"Jimmy boxed up all your books and brought them over. He did a good job," Miss Jessie said and patted the teenager on the head. Jimmy looked mortified.

"With you?" Elena asked Jake.

"Please," Jake whispered. He leaned down put his face next to her cheek. He's going to kiss me, she thought happily.

"Eat, drink, shower, sleep?" he whispered.

She nodded.


End file.
